Relearning
by Rayndrop
Summary: Erk and Serra meet a year later at Eliwood and Lyn's wedding... Admittedly old and unrevised, but I'm too lazy to change it :P
1. Too Quiet

I live for feedback! Please review!

Disclaimer: You want injustice???? DESPITE the fact that Serra is my long lost twin sister, I can still get sued for claiming her name, because I don't own her! Yet! Holds out a jar that reads "buy Serra's freedom Care to contribute?

A young mage bent over a tome, murmuring the words as he read.

"Mindalu senkar xyrobis..." He sighed quietly, and blew futilely at a stray lock of dark purple hair. Supporting his forehead with his hand, he sighed louder. Erk leaned back in his chair. He hummed. He whistled. He grunted in frustration, and, after a moment, sighed louder than before. It was so _quiet..._

The young man returned to his tome, this time holding it before his face and reading the words out loud. He didn't have the spell quite right yet, and he wasn't properly incanting it anyway, so nothing happened. The mage cleared his throat. He read louder. Behind his voice, though, the room still was hollowly silent. Giving up, he set the book back down on the table.

Erk pushed the chair back and stretched a little. After traveling with so many people for so long - when there was always some sort of noise, even in the gers when they camped - sometimes the stony silence of this place got to him. Then there was always someone laughing, talking, moving about outside. Or coming inside. While he was studying. And insisting on chatting his ear off, or dragging him off to do something for her...

Serra. Erk gritted his teeth and clenched a fist in frustration, as though the rose-tressed cleric were hovering over his shoulder at this very moment. He relaxed and shook himself, realizing what he was doing. The mage stood and gave a sort of laugh, a puff of air from between two slightly smirking lips. Silly, she wasn't here anyway. And even if she was, Erk chided himself, it would be noise, wouldn't it? He had wanted noise, hadn't he? The little puff again. He blew out the lamp on the table and picked up his book. Perhaps he would study better outside.

Erk's little breath of fresh air turned into a little walk, which turned into a little trip to the nearby village. Tome still under his arm, he strolled through the streets, thinking and watching the people in the streets idly.

Suddenly, his eye caught a familiar vestiage. Erk stopped suddenly. A priestess' robes. _Serra!_ But it wasn't Serra. Even with her back to him, he could tell. This one had brown hair, not the petal-pink pigtails of the talkative cleric he knew._But it's her same order,_ he thought. _The same raiments. Maybe she knows Serra!_ The boy started quickly forward, intending to ask, and then checked himself. Wait! What was he doing? Why did he care if the woman knew her? To ask how she was? Why would he want to know? _Besides,_ he thought with sudden alarm, _if she **does** know Serra, and I say anything, the brat might find out where I was and..._ Erk hesitated, and then whirled around and tore away, a little afraid that the young lady would even see him.

The mage walked very fast now, trying to clear his head. _What on earth did I do that for? What does it matter what she's doing now? I certainly don't want the little shrew showing up on my doorstep one day! Why, I'd never get rid of her!_ He looked tensely over his shoulder, as though he expected the woman he had seen to be following him. He quickly put his head back down and continued walking.

If he wanted to hear from anybody, it would be - oh, Lucius, maybe. They had said a few words back when they were traveling together. Or Lyn. Or Eliwood. Or Lyn _and_ Eliwood, he amended, remembering. He'd heard on the streets the two had become engaged of recently. Who might know them? Erk furrowed his brow, thinking. He could always just write a letter. Or perhaps he could take leave of his studies and go visit them, deliver his well wishes. He shifted the heavy tome unconsciously to the other arm, and then, remembering its presence, looked down and took it in his hands.

No - no, he couldn't take leave. He had advanced to a higher level of magic lately, and he needed to concentrate on his work. A letter would have to do. Perhaps they'd kept track of some of the other members of the party and could give him some news. _And perhaps... perhaps they've even heard from Serra..._


	2. Dreaming of Erk

A pigtailed girl in cleric's robes was draped across her highbacked chair, squinting at a spell book of her own. She leaned against one arm and her legs, slung over the other, were swinging back and forth. She finally scowled and slammed the book shut.

Oohhhh, I'll _never_ be able to learn this stupid spell!" Serra crossed her arms, the tome in her lap. "Things were a whole lot easier back when all they expected out of me was healing people. Now they want me to _fight_, too! Let the men do the fighting! That's what they're all big and strong for, so they can protect us ladies!"

She suddenly smiled, thinking of someone. "And escort us through the terrible wilderness and defend us against ruthless foes and fierce beasts..." she chanted in a singsong voice. Her light-blue eyes grew dreamy. What was her old escort doing this very minute?

Serra jumped up, dumping the book out of her lap. She'd write Erk a letter! Then the girl frowned. But she didn't know where he lived. Well, she'd write somebody a letter. Serra ran over to her desk and pulled out a piece of paper, plopping down in the chair. She tickled her chin with the quill pen, thinking. Drat. She didn't have anybody to write to. Well, she'd go find somebody to talk to. But all the other priestesses were straight-faced sticks-in-the-mud - kind of like Erk, she thought, giggling. Well, she'd have to sneak out of the temple.

Serra leaped up again, grabbed her cape and staff, and opened the door to her small, ascetic room with hardly a creak. She poked her head out, pink locks dangling, and then tiptoed down the hall. Nobody was out. Down the stairs, down a corridor, past the high priestess' door, and to the door that led out of the quarters. Serra placed her hand on the doorknob.

"Serra, you are not permitted to leave the temple yet today. You must wait for a few hours longer, child." Serra winced. She turned around. There stood the high priestess, Yami, in full raiment, her red-blonde curls falling to her silk draped shoulders. She was tall, beautiful, benevolent - and the biggest straight-faced stick-in-the-mud of them all, Serra thought with chagrin. The younger lady smiled brightly, though.

"Oh, I wasn't going to _leave_, ma'am. I was going to... get some paper! Yeah, I was going to write a letter. But I'm out of paper, so I've got to borrow some from the scribes!" Yami, of course, did not believe the girl for a moment, but being the good, charitable, forgiving woman her job required she be, she only smiled.

"The scribe's vellum is not to be wasted on personal correspondence, Serra. I will loan you some paper. Come." Serra grimaced - once Yami's back was turned - and followed her senior resignedly into her room. Foiled again. Yami had caught her last week, too, though how the woman had heard her was beyond Serra's comprehension.

"Who are you planning on writing?" the woman asked in her soft voice as she handed a few sheets of paper to Serra. "Your friend the Lady Lyndis, perhaps? I heard she has recently become engaged." Serra brightened. Of course! She could write to Lyn! Everyone knew where _she _lived.

"Yeah! I'm writing to Lyn! Maybe she knows where Erk lives now," she added, thinking aloud. She took the paper from Yami. "Thanks! See you later!" she said as she raced out the door, forgetting, as usual, to address her superior properly. Before the good lady had time to open her mouth, Serra was back down the hall and halfway up the stairs at the other end. Yami shook her head with a smile, shutting the door and returning quietly to her work.


	3. Erk's Invitation

_CRASH!_ A great spike of ice smashed down into the earth not far from Erk. The young mage smiled a little to himself, mopping his brow with the corner of his scarlet cloak. It was exhilarating to work hard at something and finally perfect it. He wished he could tell somebody - but Lord Pent was away. He didn't really _have _any other friends - and then Lord Pent was, well, his teacher. Different from a regular friend. Erk felt a little disappointed, despite his success. He looked around futilely, and then sat down on the grass, still panting.

Before long, he heard a noise - the sound of hooves on the road leading up to Lord Pent's estate. Erk got up and started around towards the road. He reached it at the same time as the horse he had heard, and bowed to the rider. A message carrier, not a cavalier or some such thing, from his clothing. Sure enough, the man pulled out a piece of parchment, adorned with a bright red seal, from a satchel at his side.

"I have here a letter addressed to Lord Pent, and one Erk, under the care of Lord Pent, from the Lady Lyndis," read the messenger. Erk brightened. A reply! He had almost forgotten the letter he had sent two months ago.

"I am he," he replied, and reached up to take the letters from the man. Both nodded to the other, and the messenger rode off, leaving Erk standing at the door to the estate. He immediately pulled off the seal and opened the letter, sitting down again on the ground.

She had received his letter; Kent and Sain and Florina were doing fine, and so was Lord Hector and Matthew and Serra. Erk's gut made a strange little jump upon reading her name, which, he explained to himself, was because simply reading her name made him feel sick. Lyn also confirmed the rumors he had mentioned - she and Eliwood were to be married. In fact, enclosed Erk would find an invitation...

Erk turned his attention to the other folded paper for a moment. He opened it up. Inside, the fine paper was bordered in many ornate gilt patterns. He scanned the beautiful calligraphy - your presence is cordially requested, etcetera, etcetera, witness the union of these two lives, etcetera, etcetera. Erk smiled, happy for the young lord and lady. He looked back to the first letter. Lyn continued that she really hoped he could come, and that everyone from their travels was being tracked down and invited.

Erk folded up the letter and looked up at the sky, thinking. He had made good progress in his studies lately. And besides, such an occasion - Lord Pent would of course grant him leave. In fact - he looked at the other letter, the one to his teacher. It also was from Lyn. Another invitation, without doubt.

_Well then,_ he mused, tucking the letters into his shirt, _now all that's left to see is whether I have enough gold saved for a finer cloak._


	4. Serra's Invitation

"And they're getting married in a month and they sent me an invitation!" High priestess Yami stood listening patiently, her benevolent smile never faltering. She hadn't even pulled back or flinched when Serra had started using her heavy staff to gesticulate with dangerous enthusiasm. Serra waited breathlessly for the woman's verdict.

"Have you the invitation here?" asked Yami carefully. Serra whipped it out with a flourish. Yami took it and ran her clear blue eyes over it, then handed it back, smiling warmly.

"Of course you may go, Serra. Who could dream of keeping anyone away from so important an event?" Serra jumped up in the air.

"Wahoo! Thanks so much! I gotta go pack!" She ran towards the door and then stopped and turned around. The young lady bowed. "I mean, may you be blessed for your graciousness, Mistress Yami." Serra then turned around and bolted up to her room.

The young cleric shut the door behind her and then headed over to pull out some traveling clothes. When she caught her reflection in the mirror, though, she stopped and began trying out ways to arrange her hair. Of course, she looked fabulous normally, but this was an extra-special occasion - therefore, she had to look extra-specially fabulous. Not a bun, it made her look like an old lady; not braids, it made her look like a little-bitty girl.

Serra sighed. Yami's hair was so pretty - not just pretty, either, it was gorgeous. Everything about Yami was gorgeous. Serra was... well, Serra was cute (exceptionally cute, she added to herself). But she didn't want to look cute for a wedding. She wanted to look beautiful. Dazzling. A knock-out, drop-dead head-turner. Just in case, a little part of her thought, a certain somebody was included in the 'everybody' that was supposed to come...

Serra turned her attention to her wardrobe. She didn't have a whole lot of clothes - usually, she just wore her normal robes. Her most ceremonial raiment was her prettiest, but of course Yami would never let her wear that. She reached for her coin purse, and peeked inside. Serra made a face. Seventy-five gold. Enough for a decent pair of shoes, if she knew where to look, but not a dress. Maybe she could ask Gwen for some help - Gwen's room was just across from Serra's. The girl was just as solemn and dutiful as the others, but she was about Serra's age and let her talk. Serra chewed on the end of a pigtail. Gwen wasn't the kind that would have much money, though.

Well, she'd worry about money later. It was a whole month until the wedding, after all; she'd find something. She shoved a few things into a sack, then tossed it in the corner and walked out of her room. She knocked on the door across the hall. Nobody answered. She knocked again; still nobody. Serra snorted. Gwen was probably out doing a good deed somewhere.

The bright-eyed girl trooped downstairs and poked her head into Mistress Yami's room again. "Hey Yami?" Yami turned tolerantly around and smiled.

"Yes, Serra?"

"Is your hair like that by itself or do you have to do something to it?" While she could have been frustrated or offended by what may have seemed to some to be an irrelevant (as well as irreverent) question, Yami laughed gently. Understanding, she got up and beckoned her young student closer.

"Come here. I'll show you."


	5. Meeting Again

"It's not much farther!" pointed out Lord Pent. Erk nodded, a little wearily, and fiddled with his reins. Erk was not incredibly fond of horses; he always preferred to do his travelling on foot, but Lord Pent insisted that Erk have use of one of his steeds. Lady Louise, his wife, rode a bit behind both the mage and her husband.

Topping a ridge a short time later, they could see that Lord Pent's statement was truer than Erk had realized. The picturesque Castle Caelin, where the ceremony was to take place, sat a little ways from the bottom of the hill. If he looked hard enough, Erk could even see a couple horses heading towards the castle from the East.

Soon, the trio was trotting up to the door. A few retainers came to take their horses, and one went in to notify the host and hostess. Eliwood came out first, and shook Erk and Lord Pent warmly by the hand. He bowed to Lady Louise, and smiled.

"Lyn will be so happy to hear you've come!" he told them. "As a matter of fact, she should be down shortly - taking care of some preparations that still must be made. Only three days left!" he added anxiously. Lord Pent grinned.

"You're positively glowing, my boy!" he laughed. At that time Hector came out as well. The cerulean-haired man slapped Eliwood on the back.

"Isn't he, though? I think if you told him bandits were back home taking his castle apart brick by brick he wouldn't be able to pull that smile off of his face." Seeing Erk, Hector brightened, remembering something. "Ah! Erk! You know, you ought to be given fair warning - that cleric friend of yours got here the other day and she's been asking incessantly if you've arrived. What should I tell her? If I say 'no' it might give you more time to..."

"Erky!"

"Too late!" Hector said cheerily. He promptly turned back to chatting with Lord Pent and Lady Louise. Erk started to take off, but hesitated - for just long enough for Serra to grab him in a big hug. Abruptly, though, she let go and stepped back, then stood, hands clasped behind her back - almost shyly. Getting a good look at her for the first time, Erk's mouth opened, and he spoke before he could stop himself.

"Wow."

Serra giggled, but, strangely, only looked down. When the word had escaped his lips Erk had been afraid he would never hear the end of it. He didn't really think about it, though. His mind was busy wondering whether this was the same Serra at all.

Her hair was the first thing he noticed. The young lady's usually stringy hair was let down, instead of in pigtails, and fell about her face in large, loose, carnation-pink curls. It was anointed with some sort of lightly scented pomade - he had smelled it when she hugged him - so that it looked soft and shiny. Serra's hair was longer than it looked in pigtails, too; it came down to her upper back.

As for her clothes, she was dressed in a silken gown of a very light blue that made her eyes shine like aquamarines, and wore a blue velvet shoulder cape overtop. It almost looked like... yes, she seemed to be even wearing a little makeup. Her lips, at least, were painted a light, very flattering pink. Why Serra looked... she looked... a dozen adjectives flitted in the back of his mind, threatening to come through as a full formed thought. However, in his hurry to keep them from doing so, the least of them slipped through and found itself voiced.

"You look... nice," he mumbled. Erk was suddenly very conscious (much to his consternation) of his somewhat dirty, horsey-smelling travelling cloak.

Serra giggled again. Yes, that was definitely a shy giggle. An incredibly _uncharacteristic_ shy giggle. Erk couldn't recall ever seing Serra act shy before. She had always been the loudest, teasingest, most self confident girl in the crowd. He hadn't ever even seen her blush. It was actually kind of becoming to her, he thought, scaring himself half to death.

"There's a little party tonight," she was explaining. "That's why I'm kind of dressed up. There's been a little party every night for four days, they say. I only got here yesterday." She plucked at the shoulder cape. There was a moment of awkward silence (silence? He was with Serra and there was _silence_? And _awkward_? Why in heaven's name would it be _awkward_?) and then Serra brightened and grabbed his arm.

"Oooooh! Erky, you just gotta see my new horse! She's all snowy white and beautiful! Florina is going to help me braid pink and blue ribbons into her mane and tail. I'm really not very good at riding and I fall off a lot, but..." Serra quickly fell into her old talkative self, and Erk let her pull him towards the stable. She talked all the way and yet, for some wierd reason, Erk found he somehow didn't mind...


	6. In the Courtyard

Erk sat on a bench in the corner of the courtyard, studying yet another magic tome. It was the day before the big ceremony. Wil and Rebecca were having a little archery conteset at the other end, and Priscilla was chatting with a palace girl not far away. A little noise, he mused, was not always a bad thing.

The young mage turned a page in his book and continued to peruse the spell. Suddenly, he felt a presence behind him. Erk did not turn around.

"Oh, Erk, can't you do anything except study?" She came around and stood in front of him. He looked up. It was Serra, of course, in a pretty lavender dress. She pouted. "I mean really, I can't see what can be so fun about poring over all these old, boring magic spells!"

"Maybe if you'd try it, you would," he responded patiently, returning to his book. Serra sat down beside him and scooted back so she could swing her legs.

"Did. Still don't." Erk looked up in surprise.

"Did? Try magic, you mean?" Serra made a face, but was pleased she had gotten his attention.

"Uh-huh. Yami - that's my superior - she's making me learn. But I can't! I've tried and I've tried and I've tried and I _can't_! I'll _never_ get it," she said morosely, planting her chin in her hands and her elbows on her knees. There was a very long pause, as Erk waited for her to enlist him as her magic tutor. But she didn't. Finally, he realized she wasn't going to. Good. Right?

"I'll help you." Serra sat up. Both of them looked surprised at his words. Serra blinked.

"You... you will? You really wanna help me?" No, of course he didn't! Why on earth had he said that? Serra, though, jumped up before he could take it back. "Ooooh, I'll go get my book! I'll be right back! Don't move!" He didn't. Shortly she returned, carrying her relatively small book. She sat down next to him and opened it, moving it over so it sat on both their laps.

Across the courtyard, Wil grinned. He elbowed Rebecca, and nodded his head over towards Serra and Erk, both bent over Serra's tome. Rebecca chuckled too.

"Ain't they cute?" smiled Wil. "Ah, young love," he sighed in typical melodramatic fashion. "Funny how it can make people do the most uncharact - um..." He faltered as a certain Pegasus knight tiptoed mildly out a door and sat down in a little patch of flowers to read a story book. Florina looked up, but quickly looked down again, coloring slightly. Now it was Rebecca's turn to grin.

"I'm leading by eight, Wil.Your turn," she said casually. Wil tossed his quiver and bow against the stone wall.

"Uh, good game. Congrats." Rebecca giggled to herself as Wil sauntered over to sit by the azure-haired knight, and then turned and shot another arrow at the target.

Back over at the bench, Serra's lilac-blue eyes lit up like stars.

"Oooh! See, _I_ always thought it meant... um, you know, the other way around." Erk nodded.

"I remember having problems with that particular part when I was starting out, too," he admitted. He then cleared his throat a little self-consciously. "Uh, say, Serra... I just learned this new spell. Would you - er - like to see it?"


	7. Preparing for the Ceremony

Serra stood in front of the full length mirror in the room Lyn had given her, putting on her outfit for the wedding. While two of her outfits, including the blue one she had greeted Erk in, had been borrowed from Gwen, who was about her size, this one was a loan from Yami. Serra was a good deal shorter than the tall, stately woman, but due to the nature of the gown, it didn't much matter; it was simply a length of thin, airy, rose-colored satin, wrapped and draped. When Yami had shown it to her, it had come just below her teacher's knees, with a long end that went over her shoulder and ended right above the hem. It came to Serra's ankles, but looked just as flowing and beautiful.

Serra was thoughtful as she folded the end over her own shoulder. She had never known that Yami could be... well, so much _fun_. The two had talked as Yami showed Serra good ways to fix her hair and how to wear the robe. Serra had even heard the older lady giggle once or twice, a feat which Serra had assumed beyond her capacity. And when she confided in Yami about her dreams of Erk, and his apparent hatred of her, Yami nodded wisely.

"He'll come around," she had said. Serra smiled now thinking about it. Just what a mother would say. She had almost choked up at the time - Serra had been sent away at a very young age when her village had been struck with illness. Both her mother and father had died of it in her absence. It was over two years ago that she had been accepted as a priestess and had gone (escorted by the young mage) to Yami's temple in Ostia. And yet, she had never known any other side of the priestess except the benevolently smiling, firm-yet-gentle-hand.

Depth of character, she reflected, was something that could not be definitively measured by anyone. Serra pinned in the pearl brooch (also borrowed from Yami) at the shoulder to hold it all together, smoothed a little pink color onto her lips from a pot (borrowed from Priscilla) and a pair of little soft pink shoes (hers, fairly bought and paid for with her own seventy-five gold).

Serra stepped back and assessed her reflection. She _did_ look pretty, she decided - not drop-dead gorgeous, like she would have wanted, but pretty. She was still a bit on the 'cute' site with her pouty little mouth and turned-up button nose, but that couldn't be helped. Besides, maybe it was just her own 'brand' of pretty, she decided - just the right mix of sweet and stunning. Serra nodded in the mirror, satisfied, then turned around and headed quickly for the door - it wasn't _her_ day, after all, and she wanted to give the bride a few well wishes before the ceremony.


	8. The Wedding

Erk straightened his new cloak, as he stood below a flowering shade tree in a corner of the garden. The garden was decorated for the wedding, including a white, flower-bedecked, chiffon-draped dais erected between two tulip trees not far away. Erk's cloak was a deep midnight blue, with gold embroidery along the hems, and had no hood, unlike his normal cloak. Beneath it he wore a tunic of a dark wine-red, trousers of the color of the cloak, and shiny brown hunter boots. Erk's dark violet hair was brushed neatly, not hanging in its usual tendrils around his face. He looked very nice. He felt very foolish.

He looked up quickly as Serra entered the garden in a cloud of pink satin. The gown was very attractive on her, and made her look like some sort of goddess of the sunrise. She scanned the garden, spotted him, and ran over, exclaiming over how she never expected to find him in all this hustle-bustle, and how nervous she felt with all this nobility around her, and didn't the garden look just beautiful with all the flowers and things?

Erk welcomed, reassured, and agreed with his silence, and Serra understood. And perhaps, he considered, that was why he was always especially quiet around her. He didn't really need to say much for her to understand - as long as it was something she _wanted_ to understand.

Serra chattered to him as the rest of the guests came in and gathered before the dais. There _was_ a lot of nobility, lords and ladies and marquesses and marquessettes that Lyndis and Eliwood knew.

The guests became quiet as Lucius ascended the platform. The monk was dressed in full ceremonial raiment, waist-length blond hair unsecured and framing his face, which held that expression of joyful solemnity that so often accompanies such occasions. He held his arms out to either side of him, and by the stairs at the left and right sides of the dais ascended the bride and groom.

Serra took in her breath at sight of the former. She had seen Lyn in the dress an hour or so earlier, but now she looked positively regal.The silken gown was simply cut, without fal-lals or embellishments except for the wide, intricate lace about the hem. She wore a choker of a simple white satin ribbon and a small oval jade that complemented her long forest-green hair, which hung in lustrous waves down her back. The dress was strapless, and her bare shoulders and long arms were smooth and ivory-white. But over everything, fastened by a comb at the crown of her head and coming down to her feet, was the veil, a nebulous masterpiece consisting of yards and yards of puffy tulle and rippling lace.

The groom wore a blue suit that matched his piercingly clear eyes. It had gold buttons and two long tails, with a jabot of lace in the front. He was having a very hard time looking at Lucius and not at Lyn. Lucius' face was grave, but his eyes were sparkling. Lyn and Eliwood knelt (Only Lyn and Florina knew how much practice had been put into sinking and rising in the gown and veil) and Lucius put his hands on thieir heads to pronounce the blessings.

Serra sighed and, engrossed in the ceremony, unconsciously laid her head on Erk's shoulder, whose arm she was still holding. Erk didn't move. He did not freeze, did not stiffen, he simply was still, allowing her head to stay there. He could smell faintly the pomade in her hair - it smelled like apple blossoms, he decided.

By the end of the ceremony, Serra was dabbing at her eyes with a lace hankie. She sniffed, and having by that time raised her head, shook it and blew her nose.

"Ooh, that was so beautiful... wasn't that beautiful Erk?" He nodded. The guests were surging towards the foot of the dais, where the bride and groom were standing and dutifully shaking everyone's hands. Some of them, having already given their handshakes, hugs, and congratulations, were meandering towards the castle for the reception.

"Oh, Erk, I've just gotta go congratulate them! I've gotta give Lyn a big hug, too. She just looked _so beautiful_!" Serra charged into the midst of the crowd of well-wishers, shocking or amusing those who were waiting. Erk only moved close enough to catch Eliwood's eye, and then smiled at him and nodded. Eliwood smiled back, knowing the laconic mage's nod contained all the blessings and congratulations any of the guests around Eliwood had to offer. Lyn, standing tall beside her grandfather and groom, followed her new husband's gaze and smiled too. While Serra was still elbowing her way in, Erk headed to the ballroom.

Thankfully, everyone else in the slowly filling ballroom was chatting with someone else, and so Erk was left alone to think. Something had stirred in him when Serra had laid her head on his shoulder - a question that needed to be answered. The usually brooding mage settled into an even more brooding pose, brow furrowed and fist to lips. Serra. Serra... had changed. Hadn't she? Or was it he who had changed? Or just the circumstances? Or was he looking at the same Serra, the same self, the same circumstances, with changed eyes?

Erk considered how Serra had acted over the last three days. No, she was just as talkative, just as cheerful. But as he thought, it occurred to him one thing that was perhaps missing was her flippancy. Erk spoke little, but when he had she had not wrote him off or deliberatly misconstrued his meaning. The next thing he realized, though, made him cringe. She had not, because he had given her no reason to. In the past three days he had said nothing cruel or dismissive. No, Serra had not changed; it was Erk himself - an idea much harder to come to grips with.

All right then, he had changed. He was not the same person as he was a year ago, when he had accompanied Lord Eliwood. But why? What was at the center of such a metamorphosis? And then the simple answer walked into the ballroom - wearing a flowing pink robe with pearl clips in her pink hair and looking like a strawberry angel.

Erk was a logical person. As it all sunk in, not as thoughts with words but as a slow, encompassing collection of truths, he smiled. It was a small smile of admittance to oneself, of the sort of relief that comes at the acknowledgment of an answer that was always there.

Lyn and Eliwood entered hand in hand, and the bards immediatly struck up the first waltz. The guests, smiling, watched the newlyweds dance, gazing into each other's eyes. Erk also watched Serra, sitting across the room, who had her hands clasped at her heart and whose eyes had grown big with amazement at the magic of it all. Only a few moments after the first waltz ended, the bards struck up a second and then commenced the dancing that would last all afternoon and evening and into the wee hours of the morning.

Serra still sat, hands clasped, in her seat. Erk straightned his cloak, and then deliberately and serenely walked around the dance floor and stood before Serra's chair. Her gaze turned to him in wonder as he held out his hand with a small smile on his face.

"May I have this dance?"


	9. Riding Away

Serra tied the cord of the hooded travelling cloak about her neck and grabbed her large satchel. It was a day after the celebration, and the guests were going home. The decorations were down, the party clothes were put away, and Serra's pigtails were back, though with a lingering curl to them. She went down the stairs, out of the castle, and to the stable, where she fetched her white horse, Poesy, and rode her out to the gate. Many other guests were there too, making their departure, including Lord Pent and Lady Louise - and Erk.

Erk smiled when he saw Serra and rode over to meet her. "We're almost ready to leave," he said after a moment of silence. She nodded. "Are you waiting for your escort?" She giggled a little and shook her head.

"No." She leaned close, as though intimating a secret. "I came by myself!" she said in a stage whisper. Erk raised an eyebrow and smirked.

"A lady of your standing," he joked, quoting the cleric herself. Serra giggled and wrinkled her nose.

"I know! Scandalous, isn't it? But I figured it wasn't _too_ far, and I had Poesy..."

"Erk!" called Lord Pent, who had finished his farewells to the host and hostess. Serra's face fell a little, but before she could say goodbye, Erk turned his horse around to Lord Pent.

"I'm sorry, milord," he said, bowing with a little smile, "but I'm afraid I cannot accompany you home. This young lady seems to be lacking an escort. With your leave - "

The Lord's eyes twinkled. "Of course, of course, Erk. Such a state could be detrimental to a girl's reputation, after all." He grinned. Erk smiled. Serra beamed. Lord Pent turned to Serra and touched his forehead. "Good day, milady." Lady Louise and he rode off down the road. Serra trotted up beside Erk and they shared a smile.

"Ostia, isn't it? I believe I know the way," he said with a sparkle in his eye. The two horses turned, and they rode away into the bright afternoon.

T H E

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